


How to Trust

by do_it_for_the_delitoonz



Series: Monsters and Madmen [5]
Category: Banana Bus Squad
Genre: Backstory, Binge Drinking, Blood and Gore, Bloodplay, Breathplay, Dark, Eventual Smut, Evil, Gang!AU, Knifeplay, M/M, Rescue Missions, They are, Torture, are these feelings??
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-18
Updated: 2017-03-18
Packaged: 2018-10-06 22:57:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10346478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/do_it_for_the_delitoonz/pseuds/do_it_for_the_delitoonz
Summary: God, those two were crazy with Delirious and they were crazier without him. Who would have thought that a psychopath would be the best thing for two other psychopaths?(Not him.)





	

**Author's Note:**

> In this one, the boys are still crazy..still have that edge, but somehow manage to hold on to their humanity (ever-so-slightly) and are capable of having feelings for one another. as always, tell me what you think. the next chapter should be up soon...around the second of april, i would guess.

The recruit that had (foolishly) offered to tell Vanoss what had happened to his second in command shifted from foot to foot, waiting to be acknowledged by the Gang leader. He was in the penthouse, not a place many people in the lower ranks got to go in, and as he looked around at the pure wealth radiating from every inch of the room he felt his stomach flip.

Being up here made him uneasy for some reason he couldn’t quite put his finger on, and before he could think about it any more the door on the other side of the room opened and as he saw who entered the room he really wanted to escape back downstairs and leave the building without saying a damn thing to the leader of their gang, second-in-command involved or not.

The man that had just entered the room and that was standing with his arms folded tightly across his chest was pinning down Boomer with chillingly dark eyes, a frown on his face. And now he’d been noticed by the person who was going to hate what he had to say the most. Boomer’s palms started sweating and he wiped them on his thighs, and just as he was about to open his mouth words were spilling out from the taller of the two men.

“Vanoss. Ya gotta visitor,” He said, nodding his head towards the man standing dumbstruck in the middle of the doorway. He studied the man, noticing the tension in the set of his shoulders and the line of his brow and realized he was nervous. He filed away that information for later and watched as Vanoss tossed his phone down on his desk and turned to face the doorway, his powerful shoulders flexing as he shoved his hands down into his pockets.

“I know.”

He didn’t look like the most feared Gang leader in Los Santos, Boomer mused, eyeing the man’s jeans and tank top combination before he was eyeing the man himself warily. This could go horribly wrong, would probably go horribly wrong, and as Vanoss’s eyes met his he gulped.

“You gonna speak or are you gonna waste our time some more?” The man known as Cartoonz drawled, and Boomer watched as Vanoss tossed him a look that he couldn’t understand, but Cartoonz obviously got the message because he grumbled and scrubbed his hands over his face before he was stalking around the large oak desk and collapsing down into Vanoss’s office chair.

“Don’t be rude, Cartoonz,” Vanoss muttered absently and the recruit sucked in a breath and steeled himself.

“Did you give Delirious any jobs today?” He started, and he watched Vanoss’s face go blank before it was twisting into something that could have either been a grimace or a snarl and Boomer paused as Vanoss shook his head.

“No, but that doesn’t mean shit. He does what he wants. What the fuck is your point? I have things to do, and I’m already late, so this better be fucking good and you better have some sort of goddamn proof,” Vanoss snarled, crossing the room and snatching up his red jacket and tugging it on. He paused to make sure his holster was covered and then he was focusing back on Boomer.

“He didn’t show up for a meeting he was supposed to have with-”

“-that fucking knife company. FUCK,” Vanoss exploded, and then Cartoonz rose from his seat and crossed the room in four long strides of his gangly legs and snatched Boomer up from the ground by his throat, his grip hard enough to bruise and Boomer groaned as he was slammed up against the wall. The man holding him up was even more terrifying up close, he thought, and he resisted the urge to laugh. Great. He was going to die.

"What did you say? You better hope that I didn’t hear you right,” Cartoonz growled, his eyes flat and dark and promising pain.

“Nobody has seen Delirious since this morning, and then he didn’t show for the meeting, and then he’s been radio silent ever since. We’ve tried everything,” Boomer blathered, and the grip around his throat was tightening like a vise and he couldn’t breathe and his eyes went wide.

"SO YOU MEAN TO TELL ME THAT DELIRIOUS LEAVES THIS MORNIN’, MISSES HIS MEETING, HASN’T BEEN HEARD FROM SINCE, AND YALL DON’T TELL US TILL NOW?” Cartoonz screamed, and Boomer tried to speak but couldn’t, terrified at the fact that he was trapped in a room with the leader of his Gang (he’d heard stories about the man’s skills, but he’d never seen him in action) and Delirious’s twisted, insane partner of crime, (who he’d seen in action many times - the man was scary without trying) and he knew his chances weren’t good of him making it out of this alive, or whole, if they didn’t kill him.

The grip loosened on his throat and he sucked in air, his lungs burning terribly before he was trying to explain himself.

“We wanted to make sure that he wasn’t just out being….” He said quietly, trailing off because there was no way in hell that he was going to finish that sentence in front of the man that had pulled a .45 from his shoulder holster and put a single hollow point in his last boss’s head for disrespecting Delirious.

“…Delirious?” Vanoss offered up with a little smirk, and he was turning back to the desk and grabbing his phone before he made his way over to them and slid his hand up the back of Cartoonz’s shirt.

“Let him go. He was the only one with the balls enough to come tell us, face to face, Cartoonz. This isn’t his fault, either. He doesn’t know where the fuck Del is so let him go and let’s go find the fucking idiots that do,” Vanoss coaxed, his tone carefully neutral, and Cartoonz snarled and dropped the man in his grip and turned and crossed the room, disappearing into the hallway.

Boomer could hear banging and what sounded like pots and pans being moved around before the tall man was reappearing, two duffle bags in his hands and a wicked-looking AR-15 slung across his chest. He placed his own on the desk and turned to Vanoss, holding it out without a word. Vanoss sighed and took his, placing it on the arm of the couch and unlocking his phone.

Boomer had long since stood up, and as he stood, honestly afraid to move, he watched the two men silently. Cartoonz had unzipped his duffle bag and was rooting through what looked like a personal armory, a blank look on his face.

“You did good by speaking up. I’m sorry about the little-being-thrown-against-the-wall-and-almost-getting-choked-out-thing that happened. Now get out,” Vanoss intoned, tapping away at his phone, his eyes never leaving the screen. Boomer blinked and felt relief rush through him. He’d made it out alive, unscathed, and he could have yelled but he just mumbled a yes-sir and started for the door.

“Wait,” drawled Cartoonz, and the sound of his voice made Boomer’s hair stand up on the back of his neck. He turned around and saw the man grinning darkly at him, an magazine in one hand and a Desert Eagle in the other.

“Yes, sir?” He nearly whispered, swallowing when the grin grew and the man leaned over the desk.

“If we find him, and someone has taken him, and somethin’s happened to him where he’s not comin’ back….and it’s all because we were too late…” He trailed off, and Boomer heard movement behind him and went rigid. He could feel Vanoss breathing down his neck (or so it seemed, he was taller than the man but it didn’t fucking matter, not when it came down to it) and his heart rate went through the roof again.

“…Well…you gotta girl?” Cartoonz asked, his tone light and airy. It clashed with the grin on his face and Boomer licked his lips and nodded. He did. He’d been with his girl since they’d been 15, and they were both turning 27 this year.

“She pretty?” Boomer nodded. “You got any pictures?” Boomer nodded again, dumb with confusion, and pulled his phone out of his pocket and hit the lock button and handed it over to the other man. Cartoonz looked down and noted that she was indeed pretty. A little plain, but pretty. He handed the phone back and smiled again.

“If we don’t get to him in time, and it’s because of y’all not havin’ any balls…I’ll make sure that you get to see how pretty she is covered in blood and begging for death,” Cartoonz snarled, and Boomer flinched, his mind unhelpfully supplying him with images of his Morgan covered in blood and screaming.

Vanoss’s hand landed on his shoulder and he flinched again, harder. Maybe they should just kill him now…

“He means every word he says. And to be honest…if we don’t get Delirious back I don’t think I’m going to want to stop him. Now go get the fuck out of here,” Vanoss ordered, and Boomer didn’t hesitate this time, striding over to the door and yanking it open.

God, those two were crazy with Delirious and they were crazier without him. Who would have thought that a psychopath would be the best thing for two other psychopaths?

Not him.

Delirious was, in fact, not out doing Delirious things. He’d been thrown into ankle shackles and handcuffs that connected to the ankle shackles and he suspected that the people that had picked him up weren’t your everyday run of the mill idiot wanna be crime lords that seemed to saturate Los Santos. If he’d been snatched by those idiots he would have been (un)secured by zipties and a prayer. He’d also be free by now. He couldn’t twist himself around enough in this tight space to extract the lock pick hidden in the sole of his boot but he knew once they drug him out of the car he’d be able to get to it, and he let his body relax.

They’d expect him all panicky and upset when they’d open the trunk. He was going to be all that on the outside. The inside was a totally different story, a much darker story. He was going to escape from the cuffs and the shackles and he was going to rip them all apart, not for snatching him up, but for taking him away from Cartoonz and Vanoss.

The thought of his lovers made him smile even wider. If they were scared of him they were going to be pissing their pants when those two showed up. He knew they would show, knew Cartoonz would for sure. Vanoss would too, he knew, but Cartoonz would be the one to fly off the handle and just act. Cartoonz would set Los Santos aflame to find him, would cut through anyone and everyone that would dare to stop him.

Yes, he was going to survive this. Delirious wasn’t worried about torture. He could withstand pain beyond most people’s limits, and that was just in the bedroom. The worst thing that had happened to him so far was them taking away his absolute favorite double-ended knife, and he was going to make sure that he got them back for that too.

It had been an anniversary gift after all…

Vanoss had been texting Basically then entire time Cartoonz had been having his fun threatening the recruit. He told him to drop everything and get his ass up to the top floor and don’t tell anyone. Basically had texted him back not thirty seconds later with a single k. Vanoss had heard the sound of the duffle unzipping and had known what Cartoonz was going to do and had rolled his eyes and tapped out a message to Ohm, his informant. Ohm hadn’t been caught yet in his entire career. He wanted to know if anything had been traveling around, any whispers of dissent.

It wasn’t unusual for a start-up operation to decide to burst onto the scene with a showy job. Most stuck to heists- banks, jewelry stores, secret government facilities. Others didn’t. Others decided to show up in a big, big way. In a way that almost always failed, but when it didn’t, it paid off big time.

Vanoss knew about risks like that. His entire criminal career had been nothing but big, big jobs that were doomed to fail from the start. He loved picking apart plans and putting them back together, loved making the snap decisions, loved feeling the excitement in his gut mix with the familiar fear that something would go wrong. He used it to fuel him, used it to push himself and make sure that he didn’t fail. He hadn’t so far, and now he was at the top of the food chain.

And someone was fucking with his Gang.

Fucking with him.

He didn’t like it. When he’d heard the words spill from the recruit’s lips he’d wanted to shoot the little prick in the head for even daring to tell him such a thing had happened. If he’d done it, he would have been out the door and into the street and would have ended up wandering around aimlessly. They needed information, they needed a plan, they needed to find out who the hell would even dare to fuck with what was his.

A flash of movement caught his eye, and then he heard the rasp of a blade being drawn and he turned, watching as Cartoonz grinned darkly down at his tomahawk before sliding it back in its sheath and slinging it across his back. No doubt Delirious’s partner-in-crime had already checked every single one of his weapons and made sure he had enough ammo. Vanoss paused.

He wondered how Cartoonz was going to carry himself through this entire ordeal- would he fall apart or would he bully his way through, like he’d always had? Vanoss had been dating Delirious and Cartoonz for a year and he knew almost nothing about them other than Cartoonz had raised Delirious and they were from the South and no, they weren’t going to talk about it. He hadn’t even bothered with real names.

This life didn’t give you time to bother with real names. You never knew what was going to happen. If a job didn’t fall into your lap you had to deal with other Gangs bullshit and the day to day drama of running a large-scale Gang. They’d met, Vanoss had been instantly attracted to the hurricane of a man known as Delirious, and then he’d realized that if he wanted him he’d have to learn to play nice with egoistical, smug bastard that Delirious was with. He had tried and Cartoonz had toned down a bit but he had never opened up.

Not like Delirious had. Delirious hadn’t told him anything personal, but neither had Vanoss, for that matter. But Delirious had drove him crazy and demanded his attention and shown him things he thought he’d hate and Vanoss knew that he was in love with him. That wasn’t the problem.

Cartoonz was. The bastard had resisted every step of the way. He’d picked fights, overstepped boundaries, disobeyed orders, and shut down every advance Vanoss had tried to make.

He didn’t want to take the olive branch. He’d never tried to take the olive branch. He’d play along enough for Delirious to be happy but then he’d go right back to pissing Vanoss off. The worst thing was the fact that Cartoonz would top Delirious and would let himself be topped by Delirious, but that was it. He refused to let Vanoss come near him that way until Vanoss had woken up one morning with Cartoonz’s throat wrapped around his dick.

Things had gotten bearable after that. But they were in no way close to being a normal, healthy couple. Something told him, deep down in his gut, that things were about to change. He just had to wait to find out how, and he was pulled out of his zoning by his phone buzzing. He unlocked it and saw it was from Basically, telling him that he was on the way to the elevator.

He shoved his phone back in his pocket and looked up.

Cartoonz was lounging in the chair, his boots propped up on Vanoss’s solid cherry oak desk, his AR-15 laying across his lap and his hands were behind his head. He was staring at Vanoss with a calculating look in those flat eyes and Vanoss cocked an eyebrow at him.

“Got plans, sweetheart?” Cartoonz hummed, licking his lips and smirking at the Asian man. Vanoss rolled his eyes and sank down into the chair across from his desk. He didn’t feel like fighting over his office chair right now.

“Basically’s on his way up. I’m going to see if he can tap into the city’s cameras and see if he can’t find us Delirious’s last location,” Vanoss replied, and Cartoonz let out a little approving noise and cocked his head.

“Smart. What do you think happened?” the Southern man asked, and Vanoss leaned back in his chair.

“If he was out being Delirious and causing havoc we’d have heard about it on the news by now. There’s no way in hell to cover up a man in a hockey mask running around and blowing shit up. That makes me think he was snatched. Why? Either someone from his past has shown up in his life to fuck it all up or someone wants to see us crash and fucking burn,” Vanoss spat, and Cartoonz’s boots dropped down to the floor and the towering man rose to his feet and placed his AR-15 down on the desk and walked around it to stand in front of Vanoss.

“What?” Vanoss growled, crossing his arms in front of his chest. Now Cartoonz was going to give him attitude and he’d have to resist punching the dick in the face. Wonderful.

“There is no one in his past except me. I killed everyone else he ever knew when we left for this exact reason,” Cartoonz snarled, and damn if Vanoss wasn’t thrown off for a second. Every single person Delirious had known? That was a bit…much, and he stared at Cartoonz dumbly for a moment.

“I only killed the ones I thought would be most likely to come after him when we left,” Cartoonz continued, and Vanoss blinked. Oh. That made more sense. Cartoonz shifted closer to where Vanoss was sitting and paused.

“So it’s someone that wants to see us crash and burn. They really picked the wrong target. Or the right one, depending on how they planned this out. They might want to provoke you, make you angry and throw you off balance before they sweep you into their trap,” the man Vanoss had been unable to stand for so long mused, and Vanoss found himself mildly impressed. He was used to seeing Cartoonz rush headlong into things, was used to seeing him asses the situation and then make split-second decisions, was used to him flying off the handle and losing his cool.

He wasn’t used to seeing him be calculating. He knew the man had the brain for tactics but he never voiced his plans out loud, never let anyone besides Delirious in on his planning sessions. Vanoss was reeling on the inside. Cartoonz was opening up, slowly but surely. Vanoss wondered if the man realized what was happening.

“That’s when we throw them off balance. They’re going to have some sort of timeline set up and we’re going to ambush them before they want us there. Use the element of surprise…no survivors, of course,” Vanoss responded, and the grin Cartoonz shot him made his heart skip a beat in his chest.

It was the first real smile he’d ever gotten from the man.

Interesting.

When Delirious woke up his head was throbbing and he was chained to the wall, naked save for his boxers. He opened his eyes and groaned at the sight awaiting him in the small, dark, damp room.

There was a stainless steel table in the middle of the room, tilted almost unnoticeably downward so fluid could collect into the small drain at the foot of the table. Delirious knew exactly why someone would have one of those and he resisted the urge to roll his eyes. They either were going to torture him or pretend that they were going to, and either way Delirious didn’t care very much.

Not like they were gonna do a good job anyway, he thought with a dark grin. Most people didn’t. Most people couldn’t. They didn’t the stomach or the imagination or the will to torture someone. He’d seen someone have a mental breakdown after torturing someone for twenty minutes and he’d just rolled his eyes and took over.

He was startled out of his thoughts when a door slammed open and he heard footsteps coming from around the corner. He licked his lips and lifted his head as a man came into view. He was short and skinny and Delirious grinned as he saw the flash of white hair.

“A visitor…how nice,” Delirious singsonged, high and childish. The man wasn’t impressed and strolled closer.

“Do you know who I am?” His voice was thin and whispery, and Delirious studied him a little more closely. He had the red nose of someone who drank far too much and his face was lined with wrinkles and age spots. He was left with nothing but a uneasy feeling in his gut. The men that had kidnapped him were professionals. He hadn’t hear a damn thing until it was too late for him to do anything. Why was this old man here? He had to stall, buy more time for the cavalry.

“No, I don’t. Do you know who I am?” Delirious replied, a little smirk spreading out on his face.

“Yes. You’re the sick son of a bitch that tortured and killed my grandson,” the old man snarled, and Delirious grinned then, slow and bright and hard.

“Did I? You have to forgive me, I take care of a lot of prisoners. What was his name again?” Delirious asked, his eyes seemingly glued to the old man. His eyes were actually on the large man coming up behind the old guy.

“Jimmy Nelson,” The old man answered, and then he turned and saw the big man.

“Hello Zachary,” he greeted, and then he was turning back to Delirious.

“Jimmy…Jimmy..Jimmy…let me see….was he the one built like a fuckin’ linebacker and had carrot top hair?” Delirious hummed, and the old man looked towards Zachary. Zachary stepped up and Delirious grinned at him.

“You’re a big boy too, Zachary. How’d you know poor lil’ Jimmy Boy?” He teased, and was rewarded with a snarl and a fist the size of a grapefruit rocketing into his stomach. He started to laugh, and the man punched him in the jaw and Delirious rolled with the punch, a flash of white hot pain exploding along his face and in his mouth. He tasted the metallic tang of blood that he loved so much and grinned.

“He was my brother, you fucking sick bastard.”

“That’s adorable,” Delirious snarled, and then he was spitting out the blood in his mouth at Zachary’s face and howling with laughter as the fist sank into his gut again.

“You snatched him from his house in the middle of the fucking night. His wife was right next to him. Their children were in the house. You could have killed any of them but you took him. WHY?!” Jimmy’s brother wiped the blood off of his face and punched him again, harder. “You better start talking freak, because I can punch you all day.”

“Oh, was that who he was screamin’ for? He didn’t stop, you know. Not until I cut out the speech part of his brain. I killed him a little while after that…he wasn’t much fun when he wasn’t screamin’,“ Delirious purred, and he watched the handsome face in front of him twist into a angry snarl and he started to laugh in the man’s face, and then all he saw was the fist coming straight for him. He felt the pain flare, and he slipped under.

“So I did some searching. And I found him, down by Strawberry. He walked to the Pier, disappeared for thirty minutes, and then came back into view where he disappeared from. Which was this little alleyway, right here,” Basically pointed down to the alleyway in question and then continued on, steadily ignoring the growing anger on Cartoonz’s face. “When he reappeared, he was covered in what looks like blood and knowing his crazy ass, probably is. He walks down the street, ignoring the fact that he’s covered in blood, and then he’s at a corner when he gets snatched by three men in a black SUV. I got the plates. They knocked him out, threw him in the back, and then took off. Took about a minute to a minute in a half. The SUV disappears into a parking garage and doesn’t come back out.” Basically was half-way through his brief when Cartoonz hopped up from his chair.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” Vanoss snarled, and Cartoonz turned to him with a growl.

“Who the fuck did he kill? Why the fuck is he goin’ around killin’ people? I’ve fuckin’ told his ass not to fuckin’ kill people and yet he does it anyway. Has anyone been to the fuckin’ SUV yet?” He snapped, and Basically threw a manila folder at his chest.

“Sit the fuck down cowboy. You haven’t heard shit yet. The SUV was wiped clean. No blood, no hair, no fibers. Open up that folder.”

Cartoonz opened up the folder and glossy pictures stared up at him. Stab wounds. Lots of them. He passed the folder over to Vanoss and cocked an eyebrow at Basically.

“Checked out the morgue, looked for people that had come in this afternoon. Miguel Andres. 27. Drug trafficker, rapist, murderer, the usual. Bastard got stabbed 35 times in the chest and 10 times in the dick. Delirious obviously didn’t like him very much,” He finished, pinning Cartoonz with a hard stare. Cartoonz had been the one to drill it into Delirious’s head that they didn’t go around killing civilians every day. Cartoonz shrugged and looked at Vanoss, who was studying the pictures with a frown on his face.

“Okay. What now?” He asked, and Basically grinned.

“This is where it gets fun. I’m gonna go hook up with Ohm and we’re gonna go learn as much as we can. I’ll let you know if anything pops up and Simone should call you as soon as those plates go through if I don’t. Just chill, man. We gotta find him before we kick ass,” Basically replied, and Cartoonz snorted and shook his head.

“Yeah, okay. Whatever. If you need help..” He trailed off and Basically waved his hand at him.

“Man, I know how to shoot a gun.” He called, turning and heading for the door.

“Be careful, Basically.” Vanoss ordered, and Basically rolled his eyes.

“Whatever you say boss.” He was gone a moment later and Vanoss stood up and headed for the kitchen. He needed a drink. Or several, he thought as he walked over to the cabinet and opened it. He stood and stared at the liquor bottles, not even really seeing them. Who had taken Delirious and why? His mind kept repeating the question and he just wanted it to stop. He didn’t have any answers and sitting here and torturing himself with the question wasn’t going to help anything either.

A hand slid past his face and wrapped around a bottle of whisky. He blinked and turned and Cartoonz was standing there, an eyebrow cocked and a smirk on his face.

"You didn’t even hear me come in after you? Man, you really are slippin’. Although I ain’t really sure I should be talkin’ since we both came here for the same damn thing,” He muttered, and Vanoss huffed a laugh. He turned back and grabbed another bottle of whisky, ignoring the glasses in the cabinet and closing the door. He opened it up and drank as much as he dared before he came up for breath, spluttering and gasping and Cartoonz was laughing at him but it didn’t matter.

“Yeah, it’s been one of those fuckin’ days,” Cartoonz grinned, opening up his own bottle and drinking just as much. Vanoss grabbed the top to his and wandered into the living room, collapsing down on his favorite leather couch and sighing.

“It’s been one of those fucking weeks,” he called, and when the other man didn’t reply he shrugged and pulled his phone out of his pocket and unlocked it, falling into his little fantasy game he played when he wanted to pretend that he wasn’t a criminal, and he’d occasionally force down another couple drinks of the whisky.

Cartoonz had stood in the kitchen for a good ten minutes, bottle of whisky in one hand and his .45 in the other. He didn’t know what the fuck to do. There wasn’t anything he COULD do. He stared down at his .45, his mind split between putting it away or taking it and jamming it against someone’s skull and squeezing the trigger. No, murder wouldn’t help him find Delirious, but it sure as hell would make him feel better. He blew out a sigh and slipped it back into it’s holster and poured more whisky down his throat.

It wasn’t enough to have to deal with this situation with Delirious, was it? No, he had to deal with the fact that Vanoss was worming his way into Cartoonz’s defenses. He was starting to see him as something to protect, something to care for, and he knew damn well what that meant. He’d held Vanoss as far away as he could until he couldn’t anymore, and even then he’d still pushed him away. He’d been a straight up dick, and he knew it. But he wouldn’t ever admit it to him.

But he couldn’t do that anymore, could he? Something had to give. Either he was going to trust Vanoss or he wasn’t. And if he wasn’t, he might as well just put a bullet in his head and find Delirious on his own. But how could he trust him? He paused and looked down at the whisky bottle and grinned.

He’d get him drunk, get him loose-lipped and get him to spill all his little secrets, and Cartoonz would dangle some of their own over Vanoss’s head and see if he would take the bait. And if he did…well…Cartoonz would have yet another protégé to take care of, even if the other man didn’t see it that way.

Cartoonz slipped out into the hallway and crept up to the back of the couch and drew his .45. He flipped the safety off and pressed it against the back of Vanoss’s skull and leaned in close to the man’s ear.

“This is the second time you haven’t heard me today. I could have put a bullet into your skull and you wouldn’t have know it until it was slicing through your brain like butter,” Cartoonz purred and Vanoss swore and tossed his phone down onto the the cushion beside him.

“For fuck’s sake Cartoonz, most people don’t live with people that carry fucking .45’s around daily,” He snarled, and Cartoonz flicked his safety back on and snorted. He slid the gun back into it’s holster and hopped over the back of the couch and landed next to Vanoss with a thump.

“Most people aren’t Gang leaders either. Cut the bullshit and learn how to pay attention or I’ll have to fuckin’ teach you,” Cartoonz drawled, and Vanoss turned and shot him a irritated look. Cartoonz smirked at him and took a drink and Vanoss rolled his eyes and did the same.

He was quite buzzed at this point. He’d been sitting here doing nothing but playing his game and drinking what tasted like liquid fire for thirty minutes now and he’d nearly had a heart attack when he’d felt the gun press against his head. Cartoonz had gotten his point across.

“Why are you sitting here with me?” Vanoss asked, and Cartoonz kicked his feet up onto the coffee table and looked at Vanoss steadily.

“We gotta stop this dancin’ around each other shit. We gotta decide if we’re goin’ to be together or not,” Cartoonz said, and Vanoss wanted to punch him in the jaw for being so slow about it.

“I’ve been trying to do just that you fucking idiot,” Vanoss snarled, half-angry and half nervous. He didn’t know how the fuck this was going to go down, and he was comforted by the fact that Cartoonz hadn’t put a bullet in his head when he’d had the chance.

“It’s not exactly easy for me to trust anyone. It’s especially not easy for me to trust anyone with Delirious. Forgive my fuckin’ instincts,” Cartoonz replied, pinning Vanoss with a stare that made the younger man want to drink the entire bottle of whisky in one go. He didn’t drink all of it but when the bottle leveled out he was nearly out.

“Evan,” He mumbled, the whisky hitting him suddenly and making him hot. He put the bottle down and stripped off his jacket and his holster and threw them down on the cushion with his phone before sliding off his shirt.

“What?” The word sounded like a shotgun blast in the quiet room and Vanoss winced. He looked over at Cartoonz to find that the man was staring at him in confusion and he shook his head and drained the rest of his whisky.

“Evan. My name is Evan.”

He was going to show Cartoonz that the paranoid man could trust him, and if it took his real name, then he really didn’t care.

“Evan Fong, to be exact, and I’m from Canada.”

Cartoonz stared at him, and Evan Fong from Canada could feel the tension in the room growing and he cocked an eyebrow.

“Think I’m lying? I can go get my birth certificate if you want to be that fucking paranoid,” Evan grabbed Cartoonz’s whisky from him and took a drink before handing it back.

“Luke….Luke Patterson…”

Evan was glad that he hadn’t had the bottle in his hand because he knew he would have dropped it. He turned and looked at Luke and Luke looked back at him, and Evan realized that Luke was just as nervous as he was. He shifted closer to the man and motioned for him to take a drink. Luke did and handed the bottle back to him and he took a drink. He was almost touching him but not quite, and he could feel heat radiating from the other man’s thighs through his shorts.

He passed the bottle back over and blew out a sigh and turned to face Luke.

“Hi Luke, I’m Evan. I like guns and explosions and hockey. I’m twenty three and I lived in Toronto all my life until I was 18. That’s when I moved here,” Evan let the words spill from his lips like a confession instead of an introduction, and as Luke put the bottle down on the table and stretched his gangly leg out and started fucking with his holster he felt a thrill run down his spine and wondered why the fuck he’d even said this much.

Luke came back up with the holster in his hand and he paused and looked down at the gun he never took off. He looked back up at Evan and licked his lips before he was handing it to Evan without a word. Evan took it, glanced from it to Luke back to it, and then he was placing it down on the table between them.

“Hi Evan..I’m Luke. I also like guns and explosions. I like football, I’m thirty three and I’m from North Carolina. I moved here when shit blew up in North Carolina,” Luke breathed, and Evan was torn between closing the space between them or waiting Luke out. He paused and then realized what his next move should be. Luke had stripped himself of his weapon and Evan knew he still had his ankle holster on.

“Nice to meet you. So what do you do in this crazy town?” He teased, and Luke barked out a laugh as Evan stood up and stripped off his sweatpants. He kicked them off and sank back down, grabbing the strap to his holster and undoing it. He placed it on the table and then pushed up his boxers and undid his knife holster too.

“I don’t think you’d believe me if I told you,” Luke drawled, watching him strip off all of his weapons and discard them on the table. Evan laughed and shot Luke the cheekiest grin he’d seen since Delirious had been 19.

“Try me.” He leaned back into the couch and folded his arms behind his head. Luke grinned and kicked his legs up onto the coffee table.

“I might be a member of the most powerful Gang in Los Santos….and I might also be involved with it’s leader,” Luke divulged, and Evan started laughing again.

“If I didn’t know that you were telling the truth I would tell you that you’re fucking crazy,” Evan mumbled, and he felt a hand on his wrist and looked up. Luke was standing and had a smirk on his face, his warm fingers burning on Evan’s wrist.

“Come on, I wanna stretch out and get comfortable,” Luke ordered, and Vanoss was yanked to his feet and dragged to the kitchen. Luke stopped in front of the liquor cabinet and pulled open the door. He pulled down another bottle of whisky and then closed the cabinet door and pulled Evan toward the bedroom. He let go of Evan’s wrist long enough to open the door and then he was dragging Evan through the doorway and turning and closing the door without a word. He locked it and headed straight for the bed, and he was letting go of Evan’s wrist again, this time to strip off h7is shirt and pants and Evan crawled his way up to the headboard and collapsed against his pillows with a groan.

“What time is it?” Evan mumbled into his pillows, entertaining the thought of never leaving his bed again. He heard a rustle and stretched out his legs, the feeling almost too good.

“10:46,” Luke drawled, and Evan heard him cross the room and pull open one of the floor-to-ceiling windows before he was padding back over to the bed and opening up the bottle. He took a drink, threw the top at Evan’s broad back, and waited for Evan to take the bottle before he was climbing up and sinking into the pillows against the headboard. He took the bottle back and put it on the nightstand beside him and turned onto his side to face Evan. Evan laid back down and faced Luke, hesitating slightly before he grumbled and slid closer to the other man, and he could really feel the heat now, inches away from his bare skin. He felt a flash of heat in his stomach and swallowed. He didn’t want to ask the question looming over their heads but the silence had stretched on for a minute and he wasn’t sure if Luke had even blinked since he’d turned and faced him.

He moved up towards the head board and stretched towards the bottle of whisky. Drunk as he might have been, he was nowhere near where he needed to be for whatever the other man was going to pull. He was going to pull something. It was in his nature. He growled when he found he couldn’t reach the bottle and he heard Luke snort a laugh beside him and shot the older man a glare.

“Don’t laugh, it’s not funny.” He snapped, planting a hand on Luke’s warm chest and snatching up the bottle of whisky. Luke sat up and snatched the bottle from him, lightning-quick, and took a drink. He handed the bottle back to Evan with a cheeky grin and a wink that made Evan wonder what the fuck had happened to the man he’d known as Cartoonz up until today.

“Okay, I have to fucking ask. What made you change your mind about me?” Evan asked, dropping his attention down to the label on the bottle and he started picking at it as Luke blew out a sigh and reclined back into the pillows again, scrubbing a hand over his face.

“Either we get along just for Delirious or we get along because we actually get along once we start learnin’ about each other. Somethin’s gotta change at this point. I was thinkin’ about it earlier and it comes down to this,” and the bottle was yanked out of his hand and he didn’t fight it. Luke put the bottle down on the table and turned back to him and apparently he felt that he wasn’t getting his point across because he shoved Evan down and straddled his hips. Luke might have been able to ignore the fact that he was drunk and only wearing a pair of boxers but Evan couldn’t. He licked his lips and cocked an eyebrow at Luke. “Nice try pretty boy but you’re gonna listen to me. Now, it comes down to this. Either we start actually playin’ nice and actually start trustin’ each other or we don’t, and we keep doin’ the same shit, and I’ll have to make sure that Delirious knows that you died durin’ a heist. Or I’ll tell him that you didn’t want to come find him and that I killed you for it. Not like he really pays attention to small little details like that..” Luke trailed off, and then he was leaning in to Evan’s face.

Never mind the fact that he’d been the one fighting every step of the way. It clicked for Evan then. Luke wanted to make sure that he wouldn’t betray Delirious, wouldn’t betray them, because they were more like one person when they were together, and Evan wanted to punch himself for being so stupid and not understanding. Luke wouldn’t let him in until he was absolutely sure that Evan didn’t mean a hint of harm. Evan swallowed and caught Luke’s eyes.

“The bastards that have Delirious… I want to string them up by their wrists and set them on fire. And just when they start to burn, just when it smells a little too much like barbeque, I’ll put them out. Let them think they’re gonna live. And then I’ll do it again, and again, until they’re fucking charred,” Evan snarled, and Luke’s hands came down to grip at his shoulders. His eyes were flat and dark and cold but this time he knew it wasn’t directed at him.

“I hope I can hold my temper long enough that you get to do that. If he’s hurt I’ll rip them apart with my bare hands and my fuckin’ teeth. You don’t fuck with Delirious. Not while I’m still breathin’.” He paused and Evan raised his hands and gripped Luke’s hips tightly.

“If anything happens to you I’ll make sure he makes it out. But…he’s not going to leave you. He’ll fight me every step of the way,” Evan whispered, and Luke huffed a laugh.

“He’ll go berserk if anythin’ happens to me. I’ve been the only constant thing in his fuckin’ life since I found him when he was eleven.” Luke swallowed and Evan felt the man’s palms go sweaty.

“I won’t tell anyone. We’re going to get him back. Luke…I want to try. Not just for Delirious, either.”

“There’s no goin’ back, no changin’ your mind about us, you know that right? I can’t let you live if I tell you anythin’ about our past and you decide you don’t wanna-”

“You’ve been the one fighting every step of the way. Open your eyes, you dumb ass. I’ve been wrapped around Delirious’s little finger since I met him. I wouldn’t do a fucking thing to hurt him. And as much as you get under my skin and piss me off and disobey my orders and run that smart ass mouth of yours I don’t want to hurt you either,” Evan cut him off, and Luke was staring down at him before he was closing the distance between them and burying his fingers in Evan’s hair and capturing his lips. He went for control instantly and Evan fought him, nipping at his bottom lip. Luke growled and pressed him down into the bed harder and Evan offered up his control, groaning when Luke sucked his bottom lip into his mouth and slid his hand between them and wrapped his hand around Evan’s boxer-covered cock.

“We’ve never let another into our relationship. I never liked the idea of sharin’. Until you came along, and I didn’t have a choice. Delirious wanted you, and I always wondered why. I think I see it now, though. You’re calm and cool and you don’t rush off like we do. You’d make us stronger, make us better…”

“I’m sick of talking. We can talk later. I want you, Luke. And I want you to fuck me.” Evan didn’t give two fucks about what Luke was talking about at that moment. He wanted to see if Luke was as good as Evan thought he would be, judging from the way Delirious’s body had trembled and the way his voice had broke in the middle of a particularly brutal thrust.

And Luke just grinned down at him and captured his lips again.


End file.
